The sun rose and we were
polished as apples-
me on the back of Frank's motorcycle.
He was sixteen
when he ran it into the truck
and died right away.
The Junior class
had no words for grief, wept
but were appalled
by his mother's splotchy face
red and swollen.
We were tuned then
only to WKOL and our own
heartbeats which we knew
would go on forever
death being as beyond us
as some dim galaxy. But
when my friend called this week
to tell me her sister was dying,
that sorrow was
visible without a telescope.

The Argument

Argument Over Afterlife Leaves Man Dead.- Weekly World News

Right and wrong concurrently,
thats Neils Bohrs Theory
of Complementarity.
Both wave and particle, light's proper
description, and yet contradictory.
You suppose paradise as
a long conversation with Nietzsche,
dreaming with Freud. My fantasy's
John Lee Hooker, Disney and goofy
rambles with the Great Dane.
Each of us is eager
for our kingdom to come--
dark and light our dogmas,
death the necessary noun.